


Disaster

by hellokhaleesi



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Caretaking, Disasters, Drabble, Fire, Gen, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Panic Attacks, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:53:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellokhaleesi/pseuds/hellokhaleesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: A fire/break-in/construction work leaves Felicity without a place to stay, and Oliver steps into help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disaster

Felicity had never resented wearing so little to bed in her life.

She was sat on the stairs to her apartment, shivering with the cold, while firemen and paramedics ran riot around her. A small kitchen fire had spread in the apartment next to hers, and the flames were roaring across her entire floor. According to a paramedic, she was lucky; there had been minimal smoke inhalation, she had suffered only minor burns and her apartment had only been partially damaged.

She had grabbed her phone, a picture of her and her mother and then ran. She had been asleep when the fire started - images of sleeping people suffocating on smoke and carbon monoxide fumes invaded her brain every time she thought of it, making her panic and breathe a little deeper - but the noise, and frantic knocking on her door had woken her up. Her next door neighbour, an elderly woman called Jean, had made sure to wake her up before leaving, for which she was incredibly thankful. There was a couple of burns on her arms from where she had scraped past a metal doorknob on the way out, but other than that, she was unscathed.

The second she got the all clear from a paramedic, she sent a text to Oliver, asking him if he wouldn’t mind picking her up and dropping her off at the Foundry. Knowing her partners, they were probably already on their way, considering their ears were constantly attached to the emergency service line.

She tucked her knees under her chin, wishing she had asked him to bring a blanket. Sleeping in a pair of shorts and a thin vest seemed like a great idea when her apartment was so warm, but now she was sat outside in the freezing cold, and she thought she might actually get hypothermia if Oliver didn’t get there, stat.

She clutched her photo frame closer to her, glad she saved it. From the sounds of it, it probably would have come out of the fire unharmed, but better safe than sorry. It was her favourite picture.

“Felicity?!”

Oliver’s voice made her lift her head up, and she saw him searching for her frantically through the crowd, Diggle at his side. She stood up, muscles protesting from being frozen in place, and waved to them.

When he reached her, he cupped her face, angling it upwards to get a better look. “Felicity, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine…”

“You didn’t get burned?”

“Oliver, really…”

“You’re not having any trouble breathing?”

“Oliver!” she yelled. “Not that I don’t appreciate the concern, but I got out before it got too bad. I’ve got like one small burn on my arm, but I can barely feel it. Please, just tell me you have a blanket or something in that car.”

He seemed to actually see her for the first time, rather than just firing random questions. His hands dropped from her face to her arms, and he smiled apologetically. He rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm her up, but withdrew when she winced as he put pressure on her burn.

Shrugging off his jacket, he wrapped it around her shoulders, and kept an arm around her as he walked her to the car. She was genuinely touched by his concern, the way he held the car door open for her, made sure Diggle turned on the heating when they were inside, and kept a hand on her bare thigh in a strange attempt to keep her warm, or offer comfort.

She was trying so hard to ignore the hand on her leg, so incredibly warm on her cold skin - she prayed to a God she didn’t believe in he thought the goosebumps on her leg were from the weather, not his touch - that she didn’t realise they were no where near the Glades, and had completely bypassed it, until they were in the driveway to the Queen Mansion.

“Um, why are…” she started but Oliver shook his head.

“Don’t. You didn’t actually think I’d let you stay at the Foundry, on the sofa?”

“I don’t want to intrude…”

Diggle laughed. “Wow, you really don’t know how big that house is, do you? You could live there for three weeks before anyone realised you were there.”

She went to argue, but Oliver held up a hand to silence her. “Felicity, just stay here until you can find somewhere else, if that makes you more comfortable. But please, you’re freezing. Come inside, let me make you a cup of tea, and we can figure something out in the morning.”

Ten minutes later, Felicity was sat with her feet curled underneath her, wearing a pair of Thea’s old pyjamas, a fleece blanket thrown over her shoulders, on the sofa in Oliver’s living room. The younger Queen sibling had been oddly joyful about her arrival, claiming that if she needed any help getting over the latest disaster, that she had getting over tragedy down to a tee. Thea then thrust a pair of pyjamas, the blanket and a bar of chocolate into her hands, gave her a wink, and promised to make her a cup of tea “because Oliver can’t do it to save his life”.

Oliver had joined her on the sofa moments after her, because his sister had kicked him out of the kitchen. She took one look at his face and burst out laughing, wondering how a man who frequently takes on killers, manipulators and assassins could let himself to bossed around so easily be a nineteen year old girl. Although, in his defense, ‘girl’ was perhaps not the best way to describe Thea; ‘force of nature’ seemed much more accurate.

“Splash of milk, two and a half sugars.” Thea said, putting the tea in front of Felicity.

“Two and a half?”

“Yeah, more than two to give that extra comfort factor, less than three so you don’t feel guilty.” she beamed. “I’d stay and save you from my broody brother, but I have to go over the accounts for Verdant again.” She skipped away, muttering about ‘idiot accountants’ who ‘don’t do their jobs’, and Felicity was left to wonder how Thea Queen ever managed to gain the reputation she did. She might have been long legs and designer shoes, but she was still a business woman. She took a sip of her tea. She was a business woman who knew how to make tea, as well.

“Warming up?” Oliver asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “you know, this is all too much, I’m fine.”

He glanced down, in something that looked curiously like nervousness. “The funny thing about shock is that you don’t feel it until you let go. It’s why people have panic attacks after the fact, why they don’t feel pain until they’re in the back of the ambulance.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I thought I was fine, when I came back. I saw the boat, I was on the boat, it was all fixed and better. Until, the night I went home, and there was a storm, and I woke up on the floor in a puddle of my own sweat with my arm against my mother’s throat.”

Felicity instinctively put her hand on his arm. “I got a small burn on my arm, in a fire that barely touched me. Don’t compare that to five years of torture, and fighting for your life.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he shook his head vehemently. “because you feel fine now, but one night you will wake up to the sound of a car alarm, or you’ll be too hot under the covers, and suddenly you won’t be able to breathe or think  and all you will want to do is curl up and pass out.

She opened her mouth, but closed it again. “Just know, that if you wake up tonight for whatever reason, I’ll be in the room opposite. No matter what time it is, knock on my door and we’ll fix this, okay?”

She stared at him, panic setting in, because she knew he was right. She understood the science behind shock and panic attacks, but hearing him say it gave it a gravity that it had previously lacked. She bit her lip nervously as his phone started to ring.

Without breaking eye contact with her, he picked it up. “What? Okay, thanks.”

He gave a small smile. “I’ve been instructed by Thea to watch Love Actually with you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“She says it’s funny and hopeful and it starts on channel 7 in three minutes, and that I have to watch it with you.”

And thus, the most surreal night of her life started, with Oliver Queen, a cup of tea and a British rom-com.

 

**~.~.~.~**

 

She didn’t know what woke her up. She didn’t know why it woke her up. All Felicity knew, was that it was 03:12am, her chest was tight, her forehead damp and God, she needed Oliver.

_“I’ll be in the room opposite… knock on my door and we’ll fix this…”_

His words came to her with striking clarity, and she ripped the duvet off of her like it was made of battery acid. One hand on her chest, trying to steady her breathing, she kept her free hand on the wall to stop her legs from giving out.

Making it out of the door, her lungs aching as they struggled to take in the air they needed. She crossed the hall blindly, rapping on the door she found, praying it was the right one.

It took a matter of seconds for it to open, and Oliver stood, confusion turning to concern very quickly on his face. He grabbed her, pulling her inside, quickly turning on the light. The sudden brightness left white spots in her vision, but he put an arm around her, pressing her to his body. One hand came between them, and at first she thought he was pushing her away, but the arm around her back held firm. He applied pressure to her chest, just above her heart, until her breathing returned to normal and her body stopped shaking.

Even after her panic attack subsided, he held her to him. Felicity rested her head on his chest, allowing herself to enjoy the weight of his arms around her, as if he held her together.

“Better?” he muttered into her hair.

She nodded. “Yeah, sorry about that…”

“Don’t be.” he said firmly.

“Thank you, though.” She tried to pull away to go back to her room, but his grip on her didn’t falter. When she looked at him, he tilted his head at her in a way that suggested she wasn’t going to fight him on this.

“Felicity, you have pulled bullets, syringes and God only knows what out of me.” he said simply. “You’ve bandaged knife wounds and broken ribs, and you keep me safe whenever I put my hood on, so please, just let me take of you this one time."

  
She said nothing, knowing full well that it wouldn’t change his mind even if she did. Looking smug at his victory, he flicked the lights off, and lead her to his bed wordlessly. Once he was sure she was under the covers, he climbed in next to her. She wasn’t sure if her heart had been pumping faster during her panic attack or in that moment. Feeling his weight next to her, she closed her eyes, and pretended to ignore the fingers, tracing soft lines up and down her arms until she fell back into sleep.


End file.
